


Assassin Prologue

by Theriphas



Series: The Soul Orb Series [1]
Category: None - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-18 00:47:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14201316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theriphas/pseuds/Theriphas
Summary: A (now outdated) prologue chapter of my series that I'm going to be trying to work a lot more on in the coming weeks and months, as I have it all made up just not written down. While this won't be the active prologue, I still wanted to put it out here to see if anybody would end up reading and/or liking it.The world of Aldrona is one filled with  war, magic and deception. Six major kingdoms have risen to power amidst the vast conflicts, all due to the power of incredibly rare relics known as Soul Orbs. Relics that massively increase the magical capabilities of the wielder, Soul Orbs have changed the landscape of Aldrona forever. No one knows where they came from or how they were made, but each city-state that managed to find one has risen to incredible prominence. Two of these kingdoms, Tetrenova and Rei, have recently quarreled over patches of territory, each claiming the land belongs to them. A meeting has been put into place in neutral territory to try and keep this quarrel from spiraling into a conflict that could devastate both kingdoms. These are the events that follow.





	Assassin Prologue

The Soul Orb Series  
Book One: Assassin  
Chapter: Prologue

 

“No… Please! I won’t say anything! I won’t tell anyone, I swear! I won’t tell anyo…!” The desperate pleas of the merchant fell on deaf ears. The large cleaver-like blade of Henric Grimm slid through his flesh like butter, only his spine keeping the weapon from cutting him clean in half. A second, younger man stood silently nearby, watching Henric wipe the blood from his cleaver. After cleaning the blade with the few remaining clean portions of the merchants’ clothes, Henric turned to the younger man, his “apprentice”, twenty-one year old Saul de Marre.

“You know why I had to do that, right?” Henric’s voice was stern, expecting only one answer. After all, if Saul could not get something this simple right, then he had wasted his time on the boy.

“Yeah, I know why.” Saul had a hint of contempt in his voice as he answered his mentor. “If we let him live, he could have run into the target and told him of our trap. Letting him live held a high percent chance of compromising the mission, while killing him held a zero percent chance of doing so.” Saul looked down after saying this, a look of sadness on his face. “Still… that’s the fifth civilian we’ve had to kill waiting for him to show up.”

Henric chuckled. “Indeed, so much senseless death… It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” The look Saul cast toward Henric was one of disgust. There was no such thing as senseless death to Henric Grimm. In fact, he found beauty in shedding blood; it was his art. The man adored carnage, finding more joy in taking a life than any other pleasure one could think of. For this reason, Saul was not surprised when Henric was quick to dismiss the deceased merchant. “Well, no need to respect the property rights of the dead. Start looking through his cargo, see if there’s anything we could use or want.”

Saul looked repulsed by the order, his words emotionally charged. “I’m an assassin, not some petty thief!”

Henric laughed at Saul, enjoying his attempt at innocence. “You have so many lessons to learn, little Saul. You cannot steal what is no longer owned. You’re simply taking something that is unclaimed. Besides, the Clad doesn’t need to know about the civilians; especially that one of them was a merchant. So long as they don’t find out, we can take whatever we want, all for ourselves!” At this, Saul shot Henric a displeased look, clearly unhappy with his selfish motivations. Henric shot him an amused look back. “Oh come now, Saul, you can’t tell me that your siblings couldn’t use some of this stuff, right? Even if it’s just pawned for cash it’s still extra money you didn’t have before.”

Saul wanted to argue the point but he knew that he could not. After all, Henric wasn’t wrong. Saul needed every coin he could get, and as he begrudgingly started looking through the merchant’s cargo, Henric grinned with satisfaction. “I knew you had it in you, Saul. Just couldn’t bear the thought of Linda having to provide all the income again, could you?”

Saul scowled as he searched the deceased merchants possessions. “You can be a real bastard sometimes.” A hearty laugh was all Saul got in response, Henric not bothering to dignify him with a response. Saul returned his focus to scavenging, and as he searched the carriage the merchant had been travelling in, he came across a four-foot long mahogany box. Opening the box, Saul was treated to the sight of several golden crosses, all ornamented with beautiful ruby gems. Saul had seen the type before in a church near the capital. Though he was not a religious man, Saul briefly worried about stealing something that could bring a gods wrath upon him. Thinking it over momentarily, Saul came to the conclusion he always did when the subject came up; if there were a god somewhere out there, they wouldn’t have taken his parents so early. Closing the box, Saul set it aside, making a mental note of where he put it so that he could retrieve it after they had finished up. Saul figured he could get at least four hundred silver for each cross, which could potentially provide food for his family for months if they managed their finances right.

Meanwhile, as Saul rummaged through the cargo, Henric looked up at the night sky. Dark clouds covered the entire sky, leaving the stars unable to be seen. Only the moon escaped the clouds, a lone beacon of light in a sky filled with darkness. As he admired the beauty of it, Henric heard the distinct sound of hooves trampling the ground in the distance. Saul perked up from the cargo and looked to Henric for confirmation. “That’s right, Saul. Our quarry has finally arrived! I hope you’re ready; the boss picked us specifically for this. We have to prove he was right to do so!”

With that speech, Henric took his position behind a large oak tree, laying in wait for their trap to be sprung. Saul got up and rushed to his position as well, hiding behind a small bush opposite Henric’s tree. Typically, such a bush would not be large enough to hide him from sight, but the darkness of night combined with his black cloak did the job. Only the sharpest of eyes would have any warning that he was there. Even then, they would be too late. Despite knowing this, doubt began to creep into Saul’s mind as the horses drew closer. After all, their target was not like anyone they had ever hunted before. He had access to a Soul Orb, a magical device that greatly enhanced the users magical abilities. How could Saul, someone with no magical ability, defeat such a man? 

Saul quickly realized what his mind was doing and slapped himself, desperate to keep from losing the fight before it began. No, it doesn’t matter who he is. The trap will work regardless. He is still human. He can still bleed, and if he can bleed he can die. Saul told himself this repeatedly in his head, trying to steel his confidence. Only through absolute focus would he be able to survive the upcoming fight.

As the sound of the horses grew louder, Saul looked across the small road to Henric. Despite the darkness, Saul could see the excitement pouring out of Henric, the thought of being in combat soon giving him a rush of adrenaline. Saul could not say that he enjoyed combat as much as his partner did. In fact, he would say that he downright hated it; the thought of taking a life disgusted him. However, he could not argue that he did not have a talent for it. Ever since he was picked up by the Clad, Saul had become an excellent swordsman. He had proven his worth to the Clad on several solo missions before being assigned to work with Henric Grimm, known in the underworld as Hell’s Butcher. Under Henric’s guidance, the two elevated the Clad’s reputation in the underworld to legendary levels, completing every assignment they accepted without blemish. With great success came great reward, and as the pair continued to complete their assignments without failure, the missions the Clad accepted on their behalf grew bolder.

That said, despite their many battles, Saul had never expected to receive a mission quite like this one. Malcolm Tyriel was royalty, the only son of the king of Tetrenova. It almost felt taboo to take a run at royalty, but considering their success, Saul could see how a contract like this would find itself their way. Still, that didn’t make the moment any more terrifying. After all, Royal Guards, the elite of the elite when it came to Tetrenovan infantry, would surely surround the prince in order to ensure his safety. From the sounds closing in on them, there was certainly more than one horse coming their way. Saul took a deep breath. This battle would push him to the edge of his abilities, and would require every skill he’d learned up to this point to survive.

I just hope it’s enough… Once again, Saul realized he was psyching himself out of the fight, and tried to force confidence into his head. Snap out of it, Saul! Even if your abilities aren’t enough, you still have Henric here with you. He’s bailed you out before, and he could do it again if it comes to that! But it won’t, the trap will work. Saul wrestled with his doubts, forcing them aside countless times as he waited silently in the dark.

It was a full agonizingly slow minute before the first horse hit the trap. The dirt covered net gave way as soon as the horse stepped onto it, plunging both horse and rider into the massive pit that Saul and Henric had dug hours earlier. The innocent animal screeched in pain as its flesh was impaled on the jagged wooden spikes they had placed at the bottom of the pit. Blood gushed freely from the newfound wounds, coating the spikes a dark red. The animals’ rider met a quicker end, flying from the back of the horse and hitting the back wall of the pit headfirst. His neck shattered on impact and the guard collapsed lifeless to the bottom of the pit. The next two horses were unable to stop in time, tripping over their own feet and falling into the pit as they desperately tried to avoid the crudely made death trap. The first horse met a quick fate, falling onto a trio of spikes near the beginning of the pit that pierced through several major organs, killing the creature instantly. The rider was thrown from its back on the way down. He met a slow end as he became impaled through his chest on one of the sharp spikes near his now dead horse. The second horse landed on the first, becoming momentarily impaled on the same spikes before sliding off them and crashing to the ground in a bloody mess. The rider, caught in the bootstraps of his saddle, was forced to follow the horse all the way down. When the horse landed, he was trapped with his left leg beneath the writhing creatures body. His leg had broken on impact, and with every pained struggle of the horse his now separated bones grinded against each other. Eventually his horse exhausted itself and went silent, its’ full weight collapsing onto his shattered leg. He let out a cry of agony as his bones pierced through the skin of his leg, causing him to bleed profusely. The remaining four riders managed to stop their horses before they too plummeted into the pit, loud neighing and pained screams filling the air where silence had been moments before.

Henric was the first out of his cover. He launched himself towards the horse closest to him and swung his giant cleaver at its back legs. The weapon cut clean through the creatures’ flesh and bones and the horse collapsed backwards, violently throwing its rider to the ground. In one fluid motion, Henric brought his cleaver down on the surprised guard, beheading him in one swing. Saul steeled himself and rushed the horse closest to him, dual swords already drawn. Unable to get to the rider before he dismounted, Saul’s first attack was blocked by the steel buckler carried by every Tetrenovan guard. Saul brought his second sword around and swung at his exposed hip, but the guard brought his sword down to parry the blow. Not wishing to give the guard an opportunity to recover, Saul unleashed a relentless assault. He drove the guard backwards and forced him to parry attack after attack. Hoping to create a feeling of consistency in his attack, Saul allowed his right sword to be continuously blocked by the guards’ buckler at shoulder height. In doing so, Saul looked to create an exploitable flaw in the guards defense that he could later punish. With his left sword Saul looked for any weakness in the guards’ defense. He began to get frustrated when time and again, the guards’ well-trained reflexes managed to parry an attack Saul thought would end the fight. Saul knew that he needed to end the fight quickly, and so he swung his right sword at the guards’ left knee. Having gotten into a rhythm of blocking Saul’s attacks at shoulder height, the guard was unable to stop his reflexes from going where Saul’s next attack was not. 

The blade connected with his unguarded knee, the deadly steel slicing straight through armor and flesh alike. The guards’ leg separated from his body at the kneecap and a spine-tingling cry of agony left his lips. Blood gushed from the new opening like a waterfall as the guard collapsed sideways, his balance thrown off with the removal of his lower left leg. He crashed to the ground clutching at his knee, but Saul did not allow him much time to register the horrific feeling of losing a limb. Saul quickly stood over the man and drove his twin swords through his chest, bursting his vital organs and ending his life in an instant.

Saul gave a slight frown before he quickly looked up to see how the battle was progressing. Henric was engaged with the remaining guard, weaving back and forth as the guard swung desperately at him. Panic had clearly taken over the guards’ body, and Henric frowned at the breakdown in his composure. He had been expecting so much more from someone so well trained. He sighed in disappointment before disarming the man with one powerful swing of his cleaver, his attack cutting straight through the guards’ blade. The guard looked at his broken sword in horror, and Henric smiled as he brought his cleaver up once more. The guard saw the attack coming and brought his iron buckler up to block it. His thoughts of defending himself quickly diverted into thoughts of agony as Henrics’ cleaver cut cleanly through both his buckler and his left arm. The guard dropped to his knees as he screamed in pain, and he desperately attempted to keep his blood from pouring out of the stub that was now his forearm. Henric paused for a moment to truly enjoy the scene before bringing his cleaver up one last time. He powerfully drove his massive blade from the guards’ collarbone to his hipbone, cutting him in half diagonally. Henrics’ face was euphoric as he reveled in the grotesque scene he had created, the top half of the guard sliding off the bottom half and into a lake of his own blood and organs. Saul turned and looked away from the scene, searching for anything that would take his attention off such carnage.

Upon scanning the area, Saul realized that the darkness that had previously enveloped them had vanished; replaced instead by a crimson light. When exactly this had happened Saul could not remember, but the red light just served to extenuate the death that they had wrought. The blood coating the ground shone with an almost demonic gleam. Quickly tracing the light to its source, Saul saw the lone remaining figure standing in the way of their success. If it were not for the murderous look in his eyes, the man would have been the picture of royalty. He stood tall; probably around six foot three inches, and had shoulder length golden hair and piercing green eyes. His armor was made of hardened steel and trimmed with gold, an eagle intricately designed into his breastplate. Crowning his head was a winged helm; this too was made of steel and trimmed with gold, and the wings were made completely of gold. On his back was a flowing silken cape; the cape was primarily red, with gold threads forming an outline along its edges. In his right hand, the man held a beautiful one and a half hand steel sword, the blade covered in crimson markings that glowed brightly in the night. The handle of the sword was made of solid gold. Two eagles were designed into the handles’ guard, and in the middle of the handle rested an orb that glowed a brilliant crimson. The orb shined brighter than any other source of light, brighter even than the moon hovering in the sky above them. Without a doubt, the man wielded a Soul Orb, which confirmed that he was their target; the crown prince of Tetrenova, Malcolm Tyriel. 

Saul was snapped out of his trance by Henrics’ harsh voice shouting at him from across the battlefield. “Hey! Saul! Stop staring at him like he’s some beautiful woman and focus already!” Saul shook his head and calmed his mind, looking over towards Henric. Henric immediately shot him an agitated look and scolded him for doing so. “Don’t take your eyes off such a dangerous enemy Saul, not even for a moment.”

Saul quickly looked back to the prince, who still had not moved. Saul took the opportunity to walk closer toward Henric. As he moved, Malcolms’ gaze seemed to bore a hole through his head, malice burning in the princes’ eyes. Finally, the prince spoke, his voice full of anger and contempt. “Such barbarianism… You would murder my men with such a primitive and grotesque trap… How dare you! This is an affront to the entire kingdom of Tetrenova! Do you have an inkling of who the hell I am!?”

Henric scowled at the prince. “Such an entitled mouth you have there, crown prince.” Henrics’ voice was filled with genuine disgust, but his scowl turned into a smirk the more he thought about what he was going to do to Malcolm. “I am going to enjoy watching it fill with your own blood, desperate to speak but denied the privilege as your life slips away.”

The prince recoiled at Henrics’ words, clearly not used to hearing such enthusiasm towards taking a life. “Such brutality… Savage doesn’t begin to describe a being like you! I am royalty! Do you truly think you are a match for me?” The orb in his sword grew brighter still, and Saul was forced to squint in order to keep his eyes focused on the enraged prince. “In your last moments, you will learn just how wrong you are. Behold the true power of royalty, the power of a Tyriel! Soul Power!” At his words, the orb began to activate, and the light it emitted neared blinding levels. Saul brought one arm up to try and block some of the light that assaulted his eyes, not wanting to lose vision of the prince. “Shockwave!”

At Malcolm’s command, a red shockwave of magical energy shot out in a full circle around him. Acting quickly, Saul brought his twin swords up in an attempt to block the attack, but nonetheless found himself launched backwards and into a nearby tree. The impact forced the breath from his lungs and nearly knocked him unconscious as he hit the ground. Saul willed his eyes to stay open; he knew he could not die here. Slowly lifting his head to look across the battlefield, Saul saw that the force of Malcolm’s magical attack had also launched Henric backwards. Amazingly, Henric had already shaken off the blow and gotten back to his feet. Saul was surprised that his mentor had taken the impact so well, as was Prince Malcolm, who quickly launched his attack on Henric. Saul watched the fight as he struggled to his knees, Malcolm trying to take full advantage of his magical attack by killing Henric before Saul could recover. Malcolm lunged recklessly at Henric with lightning speed, seemingly consumed by his rage over the death of his comrades. He thrust his sword at Henrics’ gut, but Henric saw the attack coming and quickly used his cleaver to redirect the attack past his body. The prince looked caught off-guard by how quick Henric was with such a large weapon, and he stumbled slightly as the redirect took him past Henrics’ body. Malcolm quickly regained his balance, but that short amount of time allowed Henric to fully regain his composure, and the two began exchanging blow for blow, the sound of steel on steel ringing through the night as they failed to land a blow on the others body.

The two would seem evenly matched to many, but Saul could tell that the prince was winning. While his Soul Power had drained some of Malcolms’ energy, the hit Henric had taken from it had drained more from him. The difference soon began to show, as Henric gave more and more ground to the aggressive assault of the crown prince. Forcing himself to his feet, Saul weakly strode towards the fight, knowing that the amount of time they had to use their numbers advantage was running out. Breaking into a sprint, Saul charged at Malcolm’s back and leapt into the air. Aiming for the neck, Saul looked to catch Malcolm off-guard and end the fight with one blow. Sensing the flank, the prince twirled and in one motion sidestepped Saul. As he did so he guided Saul’s swords past his body and down towards the ground. As Saul landed just past Malcolm, the prince kicked Saul in the square of his back, sending Saul flying forward and once more putting him on the ground.

 

Henric watched as Saul was forced to the ground by Malcolms’ kick and rushed to take advantage of the distraction. Hoping the prince would go for the kill on Saul instead of defending his neck, Henric forcefully swung his cleaver with the intention of separating Malcolms’ head from his shoulders. Through his rage, the prince remembered the odds he faced and did not fall for Henrics’ human bait. Turning towards Henric, Malcolms’ eyes widened as he saw the massive cleaver flying towards him. He barely managed to duck his head in time, milliseconds separating life and death for Tetrenovas’ prince. Instead the cleaver connected with the wings of Malcolms’ helm, and the razor sharp blade cut the top of each wing off of it. Henric growled in frustration as his strike failed to end Malcolms’ life, but he knew he could not let up his attack if Saul was to survive this fight with him. As the prince stood straight once again, Henric clutched the handle of his cleaver with both hands and aimed his next attack at Malcolms’ legs, looking to take the prince out at the knees. Malcolm saw the attack coming and jumped to his right to avoid the blade. The prince executed a clean combat roll and rose back to his feet before raising his sword and charging at Henric. Malcolm swung his blade diagonally at Henrics’ chest, and Henric brought his cleaver up to block the attack. Malcolms’ sword pushed against Henrics’ cleaver as the prince tried to push Henric back and overpower him. Henric was not going to let himself be overpowered by a pampered prince, and with a primal yell he shoved Malcolm backwards. Henric attempted to immediately capitalize by swinging his cleaver at Malcolms’ gut, but the prince managed to leap backwards in time, barely avoiding the massive blade.

Upon landing on his feet, the prince took three steps back and raised his sword in a defensive position, seemingly assessing the current state of the battle. Henric used this moment to do the same. Out of the corner of his eye Henric saw Saul propped against a tree, breathing heavily as he attempted to catch his breath. It was obvious to Henric that Malcolms’ Shockwave had taken a number on the kid, and if the prince had any semblance of a brain he would have noticed it too. That meant Saul would be Malcolms’ primary target, which meant that Henric would have to buy his attention until Saul could recover his strength enough to be useful to the fight.

 

Henric was uncertain when exactly he had begun caring about the boys’ wellbeing, it wasn’t as if they were friends or anything. Saul was a bit squeamish for Henrics’ tastes, but thinking from a strictly business perspective, their partnership had been quite lucrative for him so far. Considering how long it had taken to find someone he could tolerate working with, Henric wasn’t keen on the idea of having to look for another.

Henrics’ thoughts were cut off as Malcolm suddenly turned to dash towards Saul, the prince looking to finish him before Saul could regain his energy. Saul saw Malcolm coming and quickly struggled to his feet, managing to get his right sword up in time to weakly block the attack. The force of Malcolms’ blow combined with his weakened state caused Saul to drop his right sword, but before the prince could capitalize Henric charged at Malcolm from behind and forced him away from Saul. Saul touched his left shoulder with his right hand and felt a warm wetness; Malcolms’ attack had drawn blood. Though he had managed to block the attack, Malcolms’ sword had still grazed him and left a two-inch long cut on his shoulder. Saul cursed as he reached down to pick up the sword he had dropped; wincing as he felt pain from the cut now that he knew it was there. Looking towards Henric and Malcolm, who were still going at each other with unbridled ferocity, Saul knew that he needed to become a factor in the fight and soon. The horses that had survived the trap had fled the road and were making a loud commotion as they ran. No doubt the noise would soon draw people to the area, and Saul and Henric could ill afford to be around if that happened.

Malcolm moved backwards as he fought, continuously choosing to avoid Henrics’ attacks rather than attempting to block them. Saul watched as Malcolm strategically moved into the forest, leading Henric to a place where his large weapon would be less efficient and more predictable. Following them, Saul stepped into the tree line and began maneuvering his way towards the two. He wove between the trees in order to stay out of the princes’ sight, trying to get into striking range without being noticed by the master swordsman. As Malcolm moved into the forest, it became more and more difficult for Henric to get a good attack in on the prince, his options often limited to overhand strikes that Malcolm could easily avoid. As he realized what the prince had done, Henric roared in frustration and anger.

 

“Do not think that this environment will help you, prince! I may not be able to swing my blade wide, but your sword is no match for mine if they clash, which still leaves me the advantage! You cannot block my attacks!” At this Henric increased the intensity of his assault. Repeatedly he brought his cleaver up and then back down at Malcolm, swinging with reckless abandon. The prince deftly avoided each attack with grace, continuously backing away from Henrics’ wild swings.

“I do not need to block your attacks, you animalistic brute! I need only to avoid them…” As the prince spoke, Henric brought his cleaver up once again. As soon as Henric did this, Malcolm lunged forward, his sword aimed for Henrics’ heart. “…Until you leave yourself open!” Henric had a wild grin on his face as the prince charged towards him, and he stepped slightly to the right, an effort to keep Malcolms’ blade from piercing his heart. The blade sunk into Henric, but due to his sidestep, the attack did not hit any vital organs. As the attack landed, Saul rushed out from his position behind the prince and attacked with surgical precision. His left sword found the back of Malcolms’ neck with a sideways slash while the right pierced the princes’ armor and embedded itself into Malcolms’ right lung. The unexpected blow staggered the prince, and when Saul removed his right sword from Malcolms’ lung, he collapsed forward, blood gushing from his wounds. 

Henric coughed up a small amount of blood, but as he looked at Malcolm, he could not resist taunting the defeated prince. “Who left himself open again?”

Malcolm’s eyes were full of shock as his blood sunk into the ground around him. When the prince tried to speak, only blood came from his mouth, his wounds leaving him unable to respond to Henrics’ taunt. Henric laughed at the sight of the bloodied prince and spoke to him in a mocking voice. “Not much to say now, have you Your Majesty?” 

That mocking tone was not lost on Saul. “Hey, Henric.” Saul spoke in a wearied voice, his words slowed as he caught his breath. “He was, a tough opponent. Don’t you think, we should show some respect?”

Henric looked at Saul with disgust, his good mood disappearing at the suggestion. “Respect?” After saying this, Henric spit at the ground next to Malcolm. “Someone like him, who claims superiority over others due to the accomplishments of his ancestors, deserves no respect.” After saying these words, Henric looked back down at the bloodied prince. “Now die in the dirt like the dog you are.”

The prince, given no choice by his wounds but to comply, breathed his last. With his death, the orb in his sword lost the ever-present glow it previously had. Henric knelt down next to the body and picked up Malcolms’ sword. He looked the weapon over, admiring the craftsmanship. “This will make a fine gift for the boss, don’t you think?”

Looking the sword over, Saul had to agree that it suited Krellus’ preferences quite well. Still, he was not really in the mood for such things, considering he had just killed several people. He responded in a downcast tone of voice, matching what he felt inside. “Yeah, he’ll like it for sure…”

Henric looked up at Saul with slight concern, more than he typically gave. “What’s the matter?”

Saul looked over to Henric. He still couldn’t understand how Henric could act like he hadn’t killed someone so quickly after a successful takedown. Saul swore to himself that the day he became like that, he would kill himself. Realizing Henric was waiting for an answer, Saul put on a fake smile before he responded. “It’s nothing… Just, thinking about how much we’re going to get out of this contract. Should be our largest yet.”

Henric knew that was a feint to get him to change the subject, but he didn’t care. Saul was right about the contract, and that excited Henric to no end. “Now you’re talking Saul! This will definitely be our biggest payday yet! It better be, too, after what we just went through to get it.” Calming himself slightly, Henric paused, looking back at the orb in Malcolms’ sword. “Magic sure is something else. It’s no wonder the boss got to where he is now, with that kind of power at his disposal.”

Saul cleaned the blood off his blades using the tunic of a nearby fallen soldier. “It’s scary stuff, that’s for sure.” Saul felt a wave of exhaustion hit him as his adrenaline began to wear off. He dropped down to a knee to try and catch his breath. “I really hope we never have to fight that kind of power again.” After a few seconds, Saul stood up, sheathed his blades and walked over to where he had hidden the chest he had found before the fight. He knelt down, picked it up and looked around for Henric. Henric, for his part, hadn’t moved. He was standing in place, looking at the battlefield and the carnage they had just wrought. His eyes seemed mesmerized by something particular, not looking away from what he was focused on. Saul tucked the box of valuables against his side and walked back over to Henric. Unsure of what was going on, Saul lightly elbowed Henrics’ side to get his attention. “We should get going. We’re finished here, there’s no need to stay any longer.”

Henric turned and locked eyes with Saul, motioning for him to look at where he had been staring. Focusing on where Henric pointed, Saul was shocked to see a soldier trying to climb out of the spike pit. The man was struggling, clearly wounded from the trap he had fallen in. However, that was not stopping the soldier from making progress, and after a few seconds he was free of the pit. Saul noticed the soldiers’ legs were crushed, and he was unable to stand. That fact did not stop the man from trying to crawl over to the body of the prince. Looking over, Saul saw that Henric seemed to be quite enjoying watching the soldier struggle.

Henric tightened his grip on his cleaver and slowly walked towards the scene, talking to Saul as he went. “You’re right Saul, our business here is done. Almost.” The injured soldier continued crawling towards the prince, but Henric beat him to the body. As the soldier reached out to the prince, Henric stepped on the soldiers’ hand. The soldier let out a haggard cry of pain and looked up at Henric in distain. “Never leave witnesses, Saul. Always remember that. It’s like the boss says. The best assassin always leaves no trace of himself but his work, and the best way to ensure that?” Henric raised his giant cleaver over the wounded soldier and smiled as the mans’ eyes went wide with terror. “No survivors.” Henric brought his cleaver down with force, slicing the soldiers’ head in two. Henric reveled in his kill for only a moment before looking back at Saul, who wore a grim face after watching the execution. “Now,” Henric emphasized, “we’re finished.”


End file.
